You'd Be Proud of Me
by itsalwaysbones
Summary: Christine gets up in the middle of the night to talk to someone.


17 year old Christine Booth rose in the dark of the night. She didn't care that she had school the next morning, she had to be out. She pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped on a purple striped t-shirt. She tied up the laces to her shoes and put on the necklace that she kept dear, then she stuck something in her pocket.

She grabbed an apple and headed out the door. As she walked she noticed the starlight had already reached the cracked sidewalks. Few cars drove by her as the people within them went to leave another day trapped behind some desk wishing they were doing something else with their lives.

As she reached her destination, she slowed her pace looking out on the scenery. The FBI building and the Jeffersonian Institute could be seen down below, and the Washington Monument was glowing in the late of the night. She took a breath and walked down to where a single large stone lay.

Once she reached the desired stone, she sat down in front of it. Crossing her legs, and staring at the engraved name that seemed to stare back at her. She got this feeling every time that she came here, that the person whose name it held was watching her. Not in the sense of Heaven that her father believed in, but more or less that he was just there all the time with her and her family.

She looked over the stone once more, hoping that the name would change before she spoke, and she would run to her aunt's house and see him sitting with his son at the piano playing his favorite tune, 'Da Lime in the Coconut'.

**LANCE SWEETS **

**JULY 20TH 1985-SEPTEMBER 25TH 2014**

**HE WAS FAMILY.**

She breathed in heavily. "Hey Uncle Sweets."

"I miss you. Everybody does. Would you like me to humor you about how we've all been doing? By Dad's religion you would already know, and Mom would say that it's even ludicrous to think you can hear me at all." Christine took a moment to take out the small plastic piece out of her pocket and as she continued began to fiddle with it in between her fingers.

"Who should I start with? Mom, I guess. She's well her, kinda hard to describe but I bet you know that. Dad, he's a different story. Mom says he's a lot sadder than he used to be. He's also a little neurotic whenever me or Lance don't check in with him."

Christine figured it was probably because of what happened. "I kinda feel bad for Lance, though. He didn't have the luxury of knowing you like I did, even if the memories of you are faded. Mom and Dad don't really tell him about you, like they do with me."

Christine clutched the plastic figure to her chest and for a minute sat tense. Then she let her arms drop and continued to talk into the open air that was slowly cooling her as the night drifted on.

"Uncle Jack and Aunt Angela are doing okay, I guess. I mean whenever you come up, he goes into this roll off about song birds. Michael Vincent and I are like best friends. His grandpa taught me to play piano, I would have preferred you teach me though."

Christine felt the presence of someone behind her. "Aunt Daisy misses you too. Seeley, well he's fourteen now. And no offense Uncle Sweets, but what made you think Seeley Sweets would work. But I guess its alright, since he really laughs about it himself. He loves to play soccer, Aunt Daisy told me you did too. Dad says he's a lot like you."

Someone put their hand on her shoulder and she felt the tears threatening to spill. She clenched the small plastic figure in her hands.

"I applied for Columbia University last week. I want to go for child psychology and journalism. I know its an odd combination but its what I want to do. Dad says I have you to blame for that."

Christine looked up at her father and noticed his face was tear stained. She didn't need a mirror to see that in hers must of looked like something similar.

"I wish you could've stayed. Here, with your family. With Aunt Daisy and Seeley, Mom and Dad, and me. I love you, Uncle Sweets."

Christine took the small figurine and placed at the bottom of the pulled her necklace out from underneath her shirt. The small plastic duck sticking out of the grass matched the metallic one with the exception that the yellow paint was slowly rusted away.

She rose and her father pulled her into a hug. She could feel as both their breathing calmed from a hitch to the slowly rise of fall of the chests. Looking past him as she pulled away, she saw her mother and brother standing behind him.

Her mother came up to her and gave her a quick hug and her brother then did as the same. She slung her arm over his brother's shoulder and Lance spoke of how she had woken the whole house up, and for the first time that night a smile broke out on her face.

Brennan slipped her arm around her husband's, resting her head on his shoulder as he stared at the tombstone before him. After many moments of silence between the small family of four, Booth looked to his children and then his wife before he spoke.

"The world is a lot better than I thought it was. You'd be proud of me."


End file.
